


Some More ThighGHGHGHGS

by ChutJeDors



Series: ThighGHGHGHGS [2]
Category: The Beatles
Genre: M/M, Sexsexxesxesx, Swearing, Thighgs., Thighs.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 13:37:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7317391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChutJeDors/pseuds/ChutJeDors
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John wants Paul. In every way possible. But also his thighs. Nice lookin' lil' fellas. Paul wants John's thighs always so badly, though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some More ThighGHGHGHGS

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ in 2013.
> 
> The whole Thighs-series is un-betaed because at the time I didn't have anyone to tell me about the mistakes I make. So I apologise for all the grammar mistakes because frankly, English is not my first language. Sorry not sorry (well not really). I am quite sure it won't bother you too much. Maybe.
> 
> Have fun you naughty dogs

John leant on the wall and placed a cigarette on his lips. It had been a long day doing nothing and then George had suddenly dropped by and dragged him into a party that Brian had thrown to celebrate their newest album's success. Of course it had succeeded. Even if half of the songs were covers.

In a few days it would be christmas and John found himself waiting for it with horror. He had planned to go to Liverpool to visit Mimi, for once and take Cynthia and Jules with him and have fun with his family, as he was supposed to have all the time (well, no, he didn't have, ever), but Brian had managed to set up a fucking christmas show for them, so that he had no other chances than to stay in London and spend the christmas day with Cynthia and Julian home.

Not that there was nothing wrong with having some fine time with his wife and kid, but he and the lads had been so busy this year (that was not a lie, even if it was not the main reason for the album to have that lots of covers), and he would have appreciated to use couple of days in peace and just slouch on the old sofa of Mendips with no need to move a finger.

Now, with the christmas show, the next holiday he would have was in the end of January, and that pissed him off a lot. He had planned to go on a holiday with Cyn, as it had been a long time since the last one, and luckily he had got a chance now. Just, George Martin was coming with them and John felt an urge to break something. Maybe George's nose. Or leg. He could never leave Beatle people behind, now could he?

Tomorrow the rehearsals for the show would begin, and the show itself would start in four days. And then it would continue until the 16th of January and again John felt an urge to break something. Maybe Brian's nose. Or he could cut his queer balls off. That sounded like a good plan.

A pretty bird was making her way through the crowd and stopped in front of him, trying to look as attractive as she could. John managed to stop the eye roll that threatened to come and took a deep breath of his cigarette. That bird was not getting any Beatle juice tonight.

"Hi," she said almost shyly and batted her eyelashes, "would you like to have a drink with me?"

"Hm," John pretended to look as if he was maybe going to say yes. But, unfortunately for the bird, he would have to say no. As he was in no mood to share the Beatle juice now.

"Sorry luv. Got some work to do, can't stay much longer," he smiled, hoping that he would at least seem to be sorry and then straightened his back, pulling away from the wall.

"Oh," the bird looked disappointed and for a while it looked like she didn't know what to say. Then a smile suddenly formed on her lips and she tilted his head.

"That's unfortunate to hear. But, I think I can find some other company for the night..." Her eyes travelled over the crowd and then stopped, that same smile still staying on her lips. John followed her gaze and his own eyes narrowed when he spotted the man the girl was looking at.

Well, of course. Of course it had to be bloody _Paul_ that was walking towards them, in jeans and in a leather jacket and of course he had to look bloody _good_ in them.

Paul smiled when he approached them, glancing at the bird and giving him a wink, but then his all attention was on John and John felt good about that. And it was good that he felt good, because when he felt good he didn't get an urge to break something. Something like break the bird's heart by grabbing Paul and kissing him.

Yes, it was definitely good that he felt good and had enough self-control. Good.

"Alright?" Paul asked and looked at him with eyes full of that feeling that was meant only for John, and John found himself smiling.

"Yeah, bloody fine actually. You up for some writin' tonight?"

Paul's eyes lit up and he, unconsciously or not, licked at his bottom lip before biting it and John had to use all his strength to not break the girl's heart by grabbing Paul and fucking him against the wall.

It would probably break something else too, maybe a thing called law, for example?

"Yeah, I do have some songs to work on," his friend (and ok, lover) answered and John grinned triumphantly, stopping himself so he wouldn't look at the girl with his ha-you-bitch-I-won expression.

"Great!" he clapped his hands together and stepped past the girl, wrapped his right arm around Paul's shoulders and inhaled his cigarette before starting to lead them two between the people that were either too drunk or too occupied with each other to notice two Beatles walk past them.

They said goodbye to Brian, who nodded understandingly and looked at them with empathy in his eyes, probably thinking that it was hard for John and Paul find time to write together (which was, actually, true) and that they would have to use every opportunity they got. Which they did.

They stumbled together out of Brian's flat, giggling manically and leaning on each other. The ground was pretty slippery with ice and snow and so they found a good reason to hold onto each other all the time. They were getting really good with excuses.

They made their way to Paul's car and after playing with Paul's pockets for a while, found the keys and still giggling for whatever reason, managed to get inside the car. There it was giggling with hands and thighs for a few minutes before Paul finally turned the engine on and got on the driveway, slapping John's hand away from his crotch in the progress.

"Now easy," he said, "ye don't want me to crash."

"Hah," John deadpanned, but leant his back on his seat and crossed his arms over his chest, keeping an eye on Paul's face. "Where are we goin' then?"

"Dunno," Paul shrugged, "I think any place 's good."

"Well, there's a hotel 'round the corner," John nodded his head to the left and Paul glanced at him, smiled when their eyes met.

"That sounds perfect."

"I know, it's my idea."

  
***

They booked a room for them, apologised for the late time they arrived before withdrawing into the cheap hotel room (of course they had money to get more expensive one but they didn't need this room much. It was enough if there was a bed. And if there wasn't, well, that wasn't a problem either. They were very skilled).

"I hope you didn't actually mean that we'd be writin'," Paul smiled when he was closing the door of the bedroom before turning to face John, who had already went and tried the bed. John was now bouncing up and down on it and he answered Paul's smile when the bassist looked at him.

"Well, only if you want..." he shrugged, well knowing that Paul definitely did not want to write, not this particular night.

"No, not really..." Paul shook his head and John's smile widened and his eyes glinted. "But we gotta write some stuff soon, y'know. We can't fill the next album with covers, y'know."

"She said so," John sing-a-songed and Paul tried hard to keep a straight face before bursting into a fit of laughter.

"I'm in love with 'er and I feel fine," he managed to sing and then they were both laughing, not really at Paul's accidental use of words, but just to laugh together, as it always felt so good. Good was good.

"Oh ye git, come 'ere," John finally said happily, sat on the bed and opened his arms to welcome still laughing Paul, who accepted his request and melted against John, wrapping his arms around him too.

They hugged each other for a while before Paul pulled back and stared at John's eyes, a beautiful smile dancing on his lips.

"I'm so freakin' happy to be here, y'know," he then said and his expression turned into a warning one when John was about to start singing again.

"I know," John then laughed, "an' I'm too, _y'know_ ," he batted his eyelashes like the bird before and Paul scowled, would have probably pushed John away if it hadn't been him sitting in his lap and John's hands tightly around his waist.

"I don't know why I bother to hang out with ye," he sighed and John snorted.

"Love you, too," he pulled Paul a little closer and their noses knocked together.

"Oops," Paul giggled and then nuzzled their noses together. John rolled his eyes.

"How drunk are you anyway??" he asked with a stern voice and Paul snickered.

"Sober enough to drive you 'ere."

"We could have crashed!" John really _tried_ to look horrified, but ended up looking even more amused than he was.

"Yeah," Paul said sourly, "we _would_ have if you had continued your little _play_ with me personal space."

John suppressed a laugh and leant his cheek against Paul's neck, breathed deep his scent and enjoyed every single bit of it.

"Wanna stop me from doin' it now?" he then asked and felt Paul shiver against him. Paul's hand came up to his hair and caressed it gently when John pressed his lips against Paul's skin and the bassist's breath hitched.

"Not in fuckin' million years," he said before grabbing a handful of his lover's hair and forcing his head back, kissing him fiercely.

John smiled into the kiss and yes, he indeed felt really good.

  
***

"John," a voice whispered in what felt like middle of the night, "John, luv, I gotta use the bathroom."

"Well why did ye 'ave to wake me up then?" John groaned and buried his head deeper into the pillow, as if it helped when Paul was talking to him.

"You're kinda wrapped 'round me," he heard Paul chuckle and that got him to think about the situation. He actually was very much wrapped around Paul, keeping him firmly against his body.

"I'm sure ye can come up with somethin'," he moaned and yawned, "what time's it anyway?"

"Half past two," came the answer with the ruffling of the sheets and then Paul squirmed out of John's hands, slipped out of the bed and then John only heard the patting sound of his feet when his lover made his way on the bathroom.

John opened one sleepy eye when he heard the door open again and smiled when Paul's figure came at his sight, as bad as it was. The light was shining behind Paul's back and made him look like some sort of Jesus who, well, was naked. John, as his eyesight was very bad, could see Paul as a dark mess in the middle of the bright shining light and it was very impressive, he had to admit. Maybe having to wake up in the middle of the night caused these things to look more impressive than usually.

Not that the sight of Paul's naked form turning now to switch off the lights wouldn't be an impressive view anytime. Especially, John had noticed, he had a thing for Paul's thighs. That maybe had something to do with Paul's own obsession, as it made John to think about thighs a bit more than he usually would with anyone else.

First he had been a bit taken aback of Paul's confession in the beginning of their relationship that the younger man was really attracted to John's thighs. But he had shrugged the thought off within a second and allowed Paul to do whatever he liked and had not laughed at him. Besides, it had been kinda hot when Paul had grabbed his leg and bit and sucked at his inner thigh and oh boy, he wasn't supposed to get aroused now, it was night and he wanted to sleep...

Paul climbed on the bed next to him and snuggled into his arms. After a few seconds being still John could hear him snicker and he knew well why. Fuck.

"I though you were too tired to even lift a muscle?" Paul was almost laughing now and John felt an urge to push him away and roll around to face the wall, only that Paul wouldn't let him, the bastard having his arms tightly around John's waist. It was probably some kind of a revenge.

"Fuck off an' sleep," the guitarist answered and gently slapped the back of Paul's head, "your fault anyway."

"Oh? How's that?" Even if John couldn't see the other in this darkness, he could almost _hear_ Paul's cocking eyebrow and he wanted to stuff his palm against Paul's face and scrub it until there would be nothing left of his perfect face features. Or then he wanted to stuff his face against them and scrub his lips there until there would be nothing left. That sounded a lot nicer.

"Standin' in the doorway without single cloth on ye an' makin' me think things," he yawned and brought Paul a bit closer, pressing their foreheads together in the dark.

"How intriguing, please tell me more," Paul grinned and John had time to open his mouth before Paul kissed him lovingly and John, of course, answered to it and sighed happily against Paul's smiling lips.

"Let's think more in the mornin', 'kay?" he whispered and Paul chuckled, nodded and pulled back, so that they were still breathing the same air. Then he just turned John on his back and rested his head against John's naked chest.

When John closed his eyes and welcomed the fuzzy darkness of falling asleep his last thought was that somehow he should show Paul that he really cared about him. It wasn't just sex, the thing they had.

But how to show it, it was totally another question.

  
***

"I like your thighs."

Paul looked up from the notebook and smiled brightly at John, who was leaning on the headboard of the bed, smoking and feeling very relaxed and _good_. They were both in their underwear and t-shirts, as the hotel room was a bit cold at eight o'clock in the morning.

"You like my thighs?" Paul's eyes shone and he seemed to hold back a laugh. John grinned and inhaled his cigarette before answering.

"Yah, very much. Nice lookin' lil' fellas."

"Little??" Paul raised one eyebrow and took the end of the pen into his mouth, "I've never thought my thighs'd be little."

John now smiled openly at the younger man gazing at him and opened his arms.

"Care to gi'us a hug?" he tilted his head and watched how Paul's face lit up. The lad then carefully put the notebook down on the end of the bed before crawling to John and kissing him straight on the mouth while slipping his hands almost automatically under John's shirt.

"God, what happened to you?" John laughed breathlessly when Paul gave him a chance to speak.

"Thighs happened to me," Paul answered smiling and pulled the blanket off of John's lower body, groaning when John's thighs got into the scene. "They're so perfect," he whispered, sounding strained, placing his hands upon them like many times before. John knew his touch, how it felt, and it always felt good. It was better than with any girl. And somehow it wasn't just because Paul seemed to exactly know where to touch. There was something in the way Paul looked at his legs, his bloody _legs_ , the admiring and loving eyes he gave whenever he saw John's thighs. That look made John shiver and especially it was when Paul lifted his gaze and watched John's face with that same expression. It made John feel so full, and so happy, and it made him feel he never wanted to let go of Paul's eyes and he wanted Paul to always look at him like that. It didn't matter if those eyes were only for his thighs (John really had got used to Paul's fetish about the lower part of his body and nowadays only appreciated it), he just wanted to have them forever.

 And if it was something he could influence, they would be.

He put the cigarette on the ashtray on the nightstand before reaching out to touch Paul's face, smile forming on his lips when Paul leant on the touch and his grip on John's legs tightened. And John thought, what could he do to Paul, how could he show the same feelings Paul showed to him?

"I really, really like your thighs," he then said again, actually not knowing why, maybe because it made Paul laugh and John loved the sound of Paul's laugh.

"You already told me," Paul mumbled, eyes closed and cheek against John's palm, hands slowly feeling the older man's thighs.

"But it's true," John smiled and brought Paul's face a bit closer, putting his other hand on the back of Paul's neck, "I like your thighs," he almost groaned against Paul's lips and Paul's breath hitched, his hands squeezing into fists.

"Christ, Lennon, ye fuckin'..." the dark-haired man lifted his hands up then and grabbed John's head, forced him to look at him in the eye. John smiled while Paul's expression was fierce and his eyes were now clouded with lust.

"Wanna hear more 'bout it?" John's smile turned into a mischievous grin and Paul nodded, closed his eyes and let go of John's cheeks, instead placed his hands on John's shirt while moving wholly on John's lap, face all red.

"Well," John started and took a hold of Paul's thighs, stroking the skin of them and looking at them, wholly ignoring the bulge in Paul's briefs (and in his own too, well, for a while at least). "Your thighs... They're so different from mine, y'know? All hairy an' that? Masculine, I like that in them. Makes me wanna," he took a long breath through his nose, "do things."

"Wha' kinda things?" Paul asked now sounding like he was out of breath and clutched at John's shirt, closing his eyes and slowly starting to move his legs, trying to get John move his hands more and really _touch_.

"I want to," John bit his lip to hold back a moan when Paul's moving made _him_ feel something that wasn't actually uncomfortable but in this situation, it was. "I want to push you down on the bed and... and caress them and... shit, I want to, Paul, fuckin' stay still," he now really moaned when Paul started to rock back and forth in his lap, making strange noises that were still so erotic John thought his ears would explode or at least start to bleed.

"John, fuck," Paul's voice was pleading and John didn't know if he asked for an actual fuck or did he just swear because he couldn't think of any better ways of asking whatever he wanted. So John just decided to do what he himself wanted.

He pushed Paul down on the bed and pressed his nose against his lover's thighs and inhaled deeply, smelling Paul's scent so strongly it made his head swirl.

"They're brown... Not pale like mine," he grinned and mouthed at Paul's right thigh a bit, "And they taste... just..." He opened his mouth wholly and licked at the hairy skin, making Paul groan and then he decided to never finish his sentence, as licking Paul's leg was way too interesting. And by the ways Paul's fist tugged at the shirt covering his shoulder, it was as interesting to Paul too.

"John," the bassist then called and John lifted his head, smiling at Paul with swollen lips and Paul let out a sound that was almost a sob and pulled John lie fully on top of him.

"I fuckin' hate you," he mumbled against his cheek and John chuckled, tracing his fingertips over Paul's arms that were pretty nice too.

"Yeah, sure," he rolled his eyes and let his head rest against Paul's for a shirt moment. "You hate me so much you wouldn't come at the moment I suck at that delicious skin just under your cock?" he grinned knowingly and Paul looked like he was really going to cry.

"I hate you," he repeated and pushed John away, rolling them over and then getting on top of John. He lowered his face while sitting on the other man's stomach and hissed just ten centimetres away from John's lips:

"I'll make you regret the day you decided to shave your legs."

"Hey!" John slapped at Paul's arm, "I've never shaved! The hair's jus' so light! You know it!"

"It looks like you shave and it drives me mad," Paul breathed and John's eyebrows raised. How did it start to go like this again? John said something, John got Paul all worked up, John was on top, Paul remembered John's thighs, Paul got on top, Paul lost his mind, Paul sucked and bit at John's thighs until they both came. Paul Paul Paul.

"Friend, excuse us but I was gonna show how much I like your thighs an' I can't if you're going all ohyaythighs on me," he tried to push Paul away and tried to roll them over again, but failed. Paul could be pretty strong when it came to make his fetish come true.

"Shush, more moanin', less talkin'," Paul moved over John's crotch and made him let out a long moan, the bastard made it on purpose, of course. Then Paul was sitting on John's knees, hands on his thighs (somehow they had ended up there and John really didn't wonder how or why) and he started to run his hands up and down them, sometimes fingertips ghosting over the bulge in his briefs.

John was enjoying it. Of course he was. But he had wanted to show Paul how much he liked his thighs. And it wouldn't work when he was the one getting thigh-massage.

So he did the only thing that made sense; sat up, crashed his mouth against Paul's one before Paul had a chance to react any ways and then, still kissing Paul, pushed him down and away from his knees and got on top of him, holding Paul's hands down with a winning smile.

"Hah," he grinned and Paul's eyes flashed dangerously, like always when John interrupted his ohyaythighs -orgy.

"You're gonna regret doin' that," the younger man scowled under him and John rolled his eyes.

"Don't think so, as you're the one goin' to do so."

"For what?" Paul's lips turned up into a smirk when John's bottom touched his crotch and he couldn't help but jerk a bit upwards, making John groan in the progress.

"You little c-cunt," John swallowed and held Paul's hands down with more force, "'t was my job to worship someone's thighs tonight."

"It is mornin'," Paul whispered and John had a hard time to not abandon his plan and fuck Paul there and then, because Paul's expression was just too much. John wished he would always look like this. The look in Paul's eyes was so raw and full of lust... John didn't always get the opportunity to see him like this, as most of their shags happened in dark corners in a random alley or in the middle of the night in a hotel room, hoping Ringo or George, who were just behind the wall, wouldn't wake up.

So now, when there were lights and they didn't need to hide from the world (well, that was actually the reason they had chosen to spend the night in a hotel and not go to John's place or so), John saw Paul's eyes, and once again he marvelled at them, how beautifully shaped they were and the emotions that Paul had, how they all were in his eyes.

And so John leant forward and kissed Paul, let go of his hands and gently took a hold of his head instead, planting little butterfly kisses on the other's cheeks, eyelids and nose, making Paul giggle and reach his hands out to wrap them around John's neck.

"You know how much I really like you," Paul then whispered and John felt something expand in his chest.

"I do, an' you know how much I really like you too," he smiled back and took Paul's bottom lip into his mouth, lovingly sucked at it and Paul let out a breathy laugh.

"I thought you were supposed to get your revenge or somethin'."

"Easy, I'm gettin' there," John smiled against Paul's mouth and let his other hand wander down, take a hold of Paul's left leg and bring it up, so John only needed to sit up to face it. His back was already starting to hurt.

He placed his lips on Paul's knee and Paul let out a blissful sigh. John glanced at him and smiled, offering his other hand for Paul, who took a hold of it and squeezed their fingers together.

John closed his eyes and concentrated on his task, wondering if there was another reason than his mouth that made Paul hold his hand so tightly.

  
  
***

It was the 10th day of January, and they had a day off from that horrible Christmas show that all the four of them hated from the bottoms of their hearts. It was so unfortunate that Brian had decided they needed to do this kind of things to achieve fame. Bullocks, they already had it. They didn't need to get any more famous.

John was sitting on his sofa, watching how Julian paraded all around the living room with the toys he had got for Christmas and smiled faintly when the toddler failed to take a step forward and fell on his little bottom. He turned huge eyes on John who couldn't help but laugh a bit, already getting over his earlier grief of having to look after his child, as Cynthia had went to the town to see some of her old friends that were visiting London.

 At first John had just sulked at the mere idea of having to sit the whole day taking care of the boy that was almost two, thus being in his most annoying age. But now he found it more relaxing than any other stuff he could've done and didn't regret a bit that he had turned down the offers from George to go into a bar and get drunk.

"Awe Jules, a bit of an unfortunate faith goin' on there," he grinned and Julian answered with his own heart melting smile, turned and crawled back on his tiny feet, taking a car toy from the floor in the progress. Then he padded the whole way from the other side of the room to John, offered the car to him, which John took with the greatest delight he could form in his whole life.

"Thanks!" he said cheerfully and then leant a bit forward, took Julian into his arms and turned him over so that the child's back was against John's stomach. Julian looked a bit confused, as John didn't take him into his lap so often, but didn't seem to mind when John started to tell a story about Covie the Flying Car and while speaking, made the car fly with his hand.

No, he didn't mind taking care of Julian at all, for once.

  
***

It was almost the start of the evening when the doorbell rang and interrupted John from his playing with his son. When he walked towards the door he found himself almost wishing that it wouldn't be Cynthia or someone else that would end his day with Julian, as he was enjoying himself so much. He really should be with him more.

The doorbell rang another time and John sighed deeply. Whoever it was, it must've been something urgent.

"Yeah yeah, what---" he started when he opened the door, but paused immediately when he realised it was Paul standing there, smiling a bit dumbly, hands in his pockets.

"Care to let me in? Or where you busy with somethin'?" the bastard asked and tilted his head, still that same dumb smile on his lips that John loved.

"Jus' lookin' after Jules, 's all," he answered and ducked his head inside, trying to get a glimpse of the said young man who was currently trying to stuff Covie the Flying Car into his mouth.

"Hope I didn't annoy you then?" Paul grinned and lifted his shoulders, looking absolutely adorable, then he winked and said with a mischievous smile: "I jus' couldn't stay away from you."

"For the love of God that's whole and eternal or something like that, we've got only _one_ free day an' you need to see me then!" John groaned and slumped against the doorframe, but he was smiling, and so was Paul.

"So let me in then?" the bassist asked again, "Wouldn't want me to freeze my toes now, would you?"

"Hell yeah," John answered and moved to the side to give Paul access to come in, "It would be the most entertainin' thing I've ever seen."

"Oh, why did I choose you to be my lover," Paul rolled his eyes while taking his jacket off, "Hi Jules!"

"Uncle Paul!" Julian exclaimed and ran forward, only to be picked up by Paul, who hugged him firmly before turning to John, smiling from ear to ear.

"I still can't get over the fact he calls me uncle," he grinned and John smiled back, walked past them and sat on the sofa, patting the free space next to him. Paul sat, still Julian in his arms and John wrapped his other arm around Paul's shoulders, bringing him closer. Paul looked slightly flushed but smiled nevertheless, finally resting his head on John's shoulder.

"I'm so happy it's you," he mumbled after a little while and John felt that same ache in his chest than always when Paul talked something like this.

"Me too," he grinned and took Covie the Flying Car from the sofa where it was lying next to him, gave it to Julian who took it with a happy smile. And then John thought, what it would be like if it wasn't John, Cynthia and Julian, but John, Paul and Julian.

That was an exciting idea, but unfortunately it was impossible.

But maybe sometime in the future? If he and Cynthia sometimes divorced and the society would come a bit more understanding, maybe then?

He smiled at the thought and rested his cheek against Paul's dark mop of hair, smelling the sweet scent of him.

Soon Cynthia would come back, and then they would have to go back to pretending that they were just friends and there things they had between them were only friendly feelings. But until then, John would be happy to have this moment with Paul, who had given up his free day with Jane to be with his lover.

Julian drooled on Covie the Flying Car and suddenly laughed, as if waking John up from the sweet dreamland he had just gotten to.

"Uncle Paul and papa!" the toddler waved his tiny hands and offered the wet car toy to John, who took it and grimaced, making Paul laugh and ruffle Julian's hair.

"What now?" Paul smiled and pressed his nose against Julian's ear, blowing rasberries on them and making the child shriek and scream excitedly.

"Uncle Paul and papa!" he clapped his hands together and held out to John, who took hold of his hands and grimaced again when they were also wet from Julian's drooling.

"Can he say anything else?" Paul smiled lightly at John, looking at him with cozy eyes. John rolled his own ones and shrugged.

"Don't know actually, maybe I'm not the one to tell."

"You idiot," Paul laughed softly and playfully punched John at the arm, "of course he can. He's almost two after all, aren't you Jules?" he cooed and Julian smiled, showing shiny tiny teeth.

John's mouth twitched and glanced at the watch on the wall. Almost six in the evening.

They wouldn't have much time left, that was sure. But he would use all the time he could.

"Paul," he murmured and brought Paul closer to him again, "would you mind if you had to wait for me for a few years?"

"Depends on what you mean. You aren't goin' away?" Paul frowned and looked at him with a confused expression, fingers slowly going through Julian's hair and making the boy very tired-looking, all of sudden.

"No..." John shook his head and took a deep breath, "but if you had to wait until... Until I'm free, would you do that?"

"I don't know what you mean," Paul bit his lip, "but yeah?"

John rolled his eyes. They would get nowhere if he couldn't say it aloud.

"If I proposed you now, would you say yes?"

He looked how Paul's eyes widened and his mouth opened to say 'oh' without the actual sound.

"B-b-but it ain't possible," he then pointed out sounding weak and John was suddenly glad they were sitting, as Paul looked his legs would give in.

"Of course you had to point _that_ one out," he resisted the urge to roll his eyes again, "I wasn't gonna marry you now, you idiot."

"Oh?"

If it was possible for a human to look even more like a confused fish than Paul did at the moment, John would be happy to see it. Because this sight was actually quite hilarious.

"But if I was _free_ one day, would you wait as long as it'd take?" Now it was his turn to look hesitant and well, a bit scared too. He turned his eyes away and looked at Julian, who was really looking like he would fall asleep any minute now. Paul's lap tend to have that effect on the Lennon family, John had noticed.

"It's a lot to... You're asking much," Paul was talking now and John felt like he had just ruined his whole relationship with Paul by suggesting something so stupid. Of course it was too much!

"But John..." Paul paused and John looked up and there was this huge tenderness in his lover's eyes that made his heart ache and he wanted to kick Julian out of Paul's hands and crawl there by himself.

"Yeah?"

"If we're still havin' this... Whatever it is that we have... When you're 'free', as you said... I don't see a reason why not."

  
***

It was fortunate that Cynthia shouted a welcome before actually coming into the living room, as she would have met the most shocking picture in her whole life.

Well, it wasn't everyday when John and Paul decided to kiss in the middle of John's living room.

And it was fortunate Julian was too small to remember things afterwards. Otherwise he would have a nice story to tell how his uncle Paul and papa secretly got kind of engaged. But only kind of, mind you.

And for John? Everything was, actually, very good. And he was happy to own a marvellous pair of thighs.

And Paul was happy his lover had other marvellous things too than only his thighs. Otherwise things would have been very unfortunate for him.

But they weren't.

 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I think that kudos and comments are really fancy.
> 
> I tried to check out the dates from the beginning of 1965 when they had some free time, but I don't know if some historical facts are wrong, well... Maybe you won't die.
> 
> From now on, this will go totally AU. If you don't like AUs, stop reading now. Otherwise just, go on. idk


End file.
